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If life has taught me anything, it's that 95 percent of the people are always wrong.

We live, we die, and the wheels on the bus go round and round.

Halleluja Brother, now pass the mustard.

As you get older, Never pass up a bathroom, never waste a hard-on, and never trust a fart

Somewhere, some lucky guy is having a heart attack.

[Speaking at Carter's funeral] Good afternoon. My name is Edward Cole. I don't know what most people say at these occasions because in all honesty, I've tried to avoid them. The simplest thing is I loved him and I miss him. Carter and I saw the world together, which is amazing when you think that only three months ago we were complete strangers. I hope that it doesn't sound selfish of me, but the last months of his life were the best months of mine. He saved my life, and he knew it before I did. I'm deeply proud that this man found it worth his while to know me. In the end, I think it's safe to say that we brought some joy to one another's lives, so one day, when I go to some final resting place, if I happen to wake up next to a certain wall with a gate, I hope that Carter's there to vouch for me and show me the ropes on the other side.

[Narrating the end of the film]: Edward Perryman Cole died in May. It was a Sunday in the afternoon and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. He was 81 years old. Even now, I can't claim to understand the measure of a life, but I can tell you this: I know that when he died, his eyes were closed and his heart was open, and I'm pretty sure he was happy with his final resting place, because he was buried on the mountain, and that was against the law.

You measure yourself by the people who measure themselves by you.

You know, the ancient Egyptians had a beautiful belief about death. When their souls got to the entrance to heaven, the guards asked two questions. Their answers determined whether they were able to enter or not. ‘Have you found joy in your life?’ 'Has your life brought joy to others?'